Riding High
by EpimetheusUnbound
Summary: America's looking to Mexico for a little fun. Mexico/America, America/Mexico, dubcon, noncon, drugs, no one's portrayed in a good light.


I do not own _Hetalia_ or any rights therein.

RIDING HIGH

Canada and America are lolling around in bed in America's home in Nebraska. "What are we?" This question was addressed to Canada by America. "Huh?" was Canada's rather non-responsive answer.

"Mattie, what are these anthropomorphized beings that swagger around under the banner of states?"

"Al, you know what we are. What exactly are you getting at?"

"Are we the land? Are we the people? Are we some combination thereof?"

"The last one. We're a combination of the land and the people."

"I don't think so. I think we're just the people. The land is all one. It's the people who created borders. It's the people who divided themselves. That's what people do. They divide and unite only under those divisions."

"But America, I feel the land within me."

"I do too, but that may just be through the people. I don't think we're the spirit of the land. I think that we are just constructs of the identity of the people."

"America, it's not like you to be so pessimistic."

"A parliamentarian system with a small population cannot hope to understand my pain!"

Canada suddenly looks angry, "Alfred, I have put up with your antics and I have endured the injuries that you've sent my way. You have no business acting shirty with me. Anyway, I was being nice. Listening to you whine."

"You sanctimonious little shit bag!" They were both squared off against each other yelling. "You live in your castle in the sky, not knowing what it's like for those of us in the real world. You don't understand what it's like to have a real border to defend. Europe's forgotten and you've never really known what it means to have enemies sitting on your doorstep."

"That's it! I'm done with this. You think you can just do whatever you want to whoever you want and the rest of the world just has to take it." Canada grabs his clothes and dresses.

"That's right Canada, run away. Go hide in my shadow, like you usually do. That's your specialty, ehhhh!"

"You shit! You absolute shit! My people have fought and died with you! I'm in no way a coward!"

"You're no saint either! Don't you see the blood that's staining your hands?" But too late. Canada had already stormed out of the house slamming the front door behind.

Shit, why did I pick a fight with Mattie first thing in the morning? We had such a pleasant night together. But my nether regions are burning, like some kind of STD. No, more like misery.

 **Central** **American** **gangs** : changing nature and new partners; **Authors:** Farah, Douglas

America grabbed a flight to Mexico. He stormed into Mexico's home. Mexico was high and screaming in anguish. It was the worst high ever and America knew he was to blame. He synced with Mattie; there was a concordance, a blissful peace. What Canada didn't understand was that he wore a huge condom, called the USA. Canada was no coward, but there were things he didn't understand, couldn't understand.

Mexico took the jagged knife that he was carrying and slashed at America's throat. America grabbed the right hand that was holding the knife and pulled it up into the air. He wrapped his own right hand around Mexico, pulling him close, until their cocks were nestled next to each other. "Is this what it looks like when a nation dies?" America asked the drug crazed Mexico.

Square pegs and round holes: Mexico, drugs, and international law; **Authors:** Bloom, Craig A.

"This is your disease. You were the one who created it." Mexico screamed, his dark eyes shot and wild.

"I know, here, let me help you get your clothes off."

"You're gonna fuck me like this?"

"Yeah, I need to get high right now. I could hear your screams all the way north."

America strips Juan of his clothes, trying to avoid getting to cut up by that crazy knife, each serration was like a blade in itself. America bent Mexico over and fucked him hard, not bothering to prep or lube. Mexico was too far gone to feel anything anyway and later was later. Mostly, Alfred was not hypocrite enough to pretend to be kind. Sex with Juan was more like discordant noise, but it was more natural. This was the real world. This was what the world was really like. Not all angel's choirs and pristine snow. No, this was erratic tropical beats pierced by the screams of the dying.

Matthew was a fucking sweet enabler, who didn't know what the fuck he was doing! Sanctimonious Parliamentarian!

"Hey, don't you dare think about Canada while you're fucking me!" Juan moved the knife behind his back stabbing at America's balls.

"Hahahahaha, sorry. It won't happen again." America pauses and then smirks even more. "You're the one I love baby brother."

"How dare you!" Mexico tried to pull away from America's visor like grip. "How dare you use the same words with me that you use with Canada!"

Alfred cums as Juan manages to stab the dagger deep into Alfred's thigh. Now they're both trippin' and both are totally shot to hell.

Alfred wakes up naked in a parking lot at a seedy looking grocery store. It's dark and nobody's around. "Where the fuck am I?" He looks around at the signs in Spanish. "Texas, maybe…or Florida? Ah hell, I could be anywhere."

time/video/player/0,32068,33575273001_1916484,

America was found by the Mexican police, but they didn't seem to want to bother with him. He told them to call Juan Carlos Fernández Carriedo, which they did. Next thing he knew he was back at Juan's house. "Could you not bother the police? They have enough to deal with." "Sorry, man, I really am sorry." and this time America meant it.

America looks Mexico up and down, "You seem a better."

"Well, it comes in waves."

"I know what you mean."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"Do you want something to eat?" Mexico asks as he heads toward the kitchen.

"Nothing too heavy."

"I got some oranges."

"Are they Florida grown?"

"No."

"Fine, I'll have one."

Mexico rolls his eyes, "Don't force yourself."

"Hahahaha, sorry, sorry, please may I have one?"

"Here." said as Mexico tosses an orange, which America readily catches.

America finishes the orange and starts to head out.

"Are you leaving already?" Mexico wraps his arms around America's waist.

"I think I had better."

"You haven't said you love me."

"No, I haven't."

Mexico sighs, "Stay a bit."

Alfred hesitates.

"Stay." Juan pleads softly in Alfred's ear.

"I'll just cause you more problems."

"I know that and I'm still asking."

"Fine, I'll stay for a while." It'd be easier to avoid Matt if he hung out here.

"You're thinking about Canada again."

"How the hell do you always know what I'm thinking?"

"I have internet."

"Huh?"

news/world-latin-america-31213743

Mexico heads out and America follows.

"Where are we going?" America asks.

"Don't know about you, but I'm heading to work."

"Mind if I tag along?"

"Suit yourself."

After a considerable bit of driving the military jeep pulls into a military base. They drive past the high fences and are saluted as they enter. They drive past a lot of flat square buildings until they get to a particularly drab one deep inside the facility. They enter the concrete building. The young man at the desk immediately stands and salutes as America and Mexico walk past nodding their heads in acknowledgement. They then walk down bland corridors past unmarked doors, but Mexico knows exactly where he's going. Mexico finally goes through one of the doors; America follows.

node/102793/section/7

There are two soldiers waiting in the room. A man was lying on the ground. His legs were bound and his arms were bound behind his back. Mexico walked up to the man and kicked him. Then he raised the man's head off the floor by his hair. _Él sostiene. Levante su cabeza._ (Hold him up. Lift his head up). Mexico wraps what looks like cheese cloth around the head of the man on the floor. The man's entire face is covered except for his nostrils.

America watches with an unreadable expression on his face. "Who is he?"

"He's the Gulf Cartel, probably."

"Probably?"

"Does he seem human to you? He doesn't seem human to me."

America puzzles over the man on the floor. "He doesn't seem like us."

"He's not like us; he's an NGO, and one of a most disgusting nature."

"Are you sure you have the right man?" America looks uncertain.

"If he's not the right man, he will be by the time I'm finished with him."

Mexico pours water down the nose of the man, who has been seated in a metal chair. The man's head was held tilted back and he tries to cough up the water, but his mouth is covered. Muffled sounds come from the man.

"I think he's trying to confess." America says deadpanned.

The man's face is unwrapped and he's pleading, saying that he'll tell them anything.

"You know, I really wish you wouldn't do this in front of me." says Alfred in annoyance.

"Hey, I learned this from you." Juan says. "You don't think I enjoy this, but my government, my military…I don't want to hurt my own people. Al, you understand our schizophrenic natures. We represent all the people of our country, the best and the worst. I have to do this. I have to do this to stop the cartels."

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Part of me does and part of me doesn't."

Mexico breaks down and starts crying. America pulls Juan into his embrace and leads him out of the room. They enter another room, an office. America strips and then helps Mexico to remove his clothes.

"What? Did that give you a hard on?" Mexico asks in anger.

"Shhhh, relax, I've got something for you." America walks around and bends over the desk, resting his forearms on its surface. Mexico applies lube to his fingers and walks around behind America, staring intently at the promised land and is surprised to see a string trailing out of America's ass.

"You sicko, what the fuck!"

"It's not what you're thinking. Pull it out."

Mexico looks disgusted, but does what he's told. The string is attached to a plastic tube, which Mexico unscrews. Inside the tube is a check for a large amount of money.

"What's this for?"

"It's the other fifteen percent."

"Oh, I thought you weren't going to give it to me."

"I shouldn't. Especially after what I just witnessed. Now fuck me."

"Don't you need to be loosened up first."

"That tube loosened me enough for you."

"You shit."

"You'll have to be a lot longer to get that."

Mexico fumes as he rams violently into America. He pulls out till just his cock head is just inside America and then he slams into him again. This process is repeated over and over.

news/world-latin-america-31252421 2/11/2015

It was already 21:00 and America and Mexico were just driving around stopping at random touristy places that caught America's eye.

America starts getting fidgety. He runs his hand over Mexico's thigh between shifting gears. "Man, why don't you have an automatic?"

"What. You drive stick shift all the time with your love of classic cars."

"Well, yeah, but it keeps my hands more occupied than I'd like." America caresses the back of Mexico's hand and arm with the tips of his fingers.

"You seem to be managing, or what, you want to give me a hand job while you drive."

"I want to get high and then dance the night away. Get high for me Mexico."

"I don't do that on command….but there is someone we could visit. Take the next left here."

"Who're we gonna visit?" America looks intrigued.

"Two more miles and then a right. You know her. The Pacific Queen is out."

"What? You let her out? That sucks. Why couldn't you disappear her or do you only do that to innocent people." America's mood turns really pissy.

"The rain falls on the innocent and the guilty. Anyway, she's high profile."

America and Mexico enter a rather ugly building, it's ugly on the inside too, but it hardly matters. There colored strobe lights and pulsing music. The queen is dancing center floor with Colombia. America and Mexico join the two in, syncing their movements and pulsating with the central dancers. America starts to feel the high envelope him. At once he becomes more alive, more aware and more detached at the same time. Maybe there are two of him one drifting above the world seeing everything and another an inseparable part of the world absorbing the earth's feelings. They're dancing gets more frantic or maybe they're not dancing, maybe they're exploding.

America has died thousands of deaths with his people, as have they all. He sees them rising up from the fires of Hell, he sees them blaming him. They shriek in agony with the music, asking why he did not protect them. That's why he fears horror; he fears the dead. He fears the final judgment, when the dead will testify against him. America struggles as the dead swarm him, but for every hundred he shakes off there are thousands more.

America hit his high much faster than Colombia and Mexico. Well, he's not as used to it, Mexico thinks that might be a good thing. Well, it might be a good thing if America was rampaging around like a bull, trashing the place. Colombia and Mexico both rushed to try to hold America down. They were both thrown through the wall like rag dolls. Ah, hell, they'd just have to cordon off the area until America calmed down. The queen had disappeared, Mexico called a few soldiers in just to keep people away from the area. Colombia seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Hey, let's try 'n ride him." Colombia suggests with a smirk.

"Are shittin' me? We'll both be killed." Mexico begins to wonder how far gone Colombia really is. You can't always tell with him and he was there before them.

"We won't die as long as our countries exist. Come on, let's live a little."

"If I wanted to get the crap beat out of me I'd just stand in an imploding building. You go on if you like."

"If you're not going to join me then there's no point."

"There was never any point anyway. Isn't it all just something to kill time till we die."

"Hey, Mexico, let me ride you. We've been married by royalty, so you can't really deny me."

"My ass is sore enough right now and it's going to be worse later."

"That's great! Let me join in then."

0=0==0=0=0==0=0=0=

When America awoke, he felt like death warmed over and then run over. He was hot and soaked and sticky. He was lying outside in the dirt with flies and mosquitoes buzzing around him. He noticed that they had distinctive buzzes that blended in with the general background buzz and the buzz that was just in his head. He'd heard better choruses. The sun was beating down on him and it was so goddamn humid and he felt like crap and really needed a bath. The smell emitting from him was reminiscent of the trench warfare during WWI. God this sucked. Why did he get high again? Oh, that's right, because it was cool.

He laid on the ground. He wanted to get up; he wanted to take a shower, but his body seemed disinterested in what he wanted and he didn't have the strength to fight it. After some time passed, Alfred wasn't even sure how much, Mexico was standing over him. Juan lowers himself and gently supports Alfred's head with his left arm, while helping Alfred drink from a bottle of water with his right hand. "Here you are. Drink this; you've lost a lot of fluids." America could not respond, but he did his best to comply, though swallowing proved difficult. Juan just stayed seated on the ground, cradling America's head and helping take another occasional sip.

Later, at Mexico's house after America has showered and cleaned off and gotten some more sleep, he sits at the table across from Mexico.

"So let me get this straight. You went off and had fun and just left the soldiers with instructions to call you when I woke up?"

"Si."

"What the fuck, man! Why didn't you have them take me to a hospital or at least inside a building?"

"I don't know. I wasn't thinking that clearly myself. I was also kind of pissed at you. You totally destroyed a building and I didn't get to have any fun with you."

Alfred sighed his eyes going even dimmer. "You know, Mexico, I'm not really surprised. Everybody wants me. They want my body; they want to rape me, but nobody loves me. Do you know what's it's like to have everyone desire your markets while at the same time feeling no shame about telling you how much they hate you?"

Mexico stayed silent. He didn't want to hear a DC moan about his problems.

. /2013/05/01/how-mexicans-see-america/

2013/07/18/chapter-1-attitudes-toward-the-united-states/

"Plus Canada is fine with that whole pipeline thing, while I'm not so sure about it."

"Why are you talking about him? I love you more than he does. You love him so much, but he's always looking down on you. You are connected to me by so much more. Plus I love you despite the fact that I know you love him more."

"You don't love me!" Alfred screamed in frustration, "Nobody loves me. You don't have any fucking clue how lonely I feel."

"Hey, Alf, let's go to a futbol game."

"Huh. Yeah, ok, whatever."

watch?v=6EilV9vgaEY

watch?v=Ka2WXaZKM0k

. ?_r=0

.

.

Mexico and America arrive in the parking lot and make their way through the happy crowds. With all the people milling about a student accidently bumps into Al, "Discúlpeme."

Al grins at the young college kid, "No problem. You a college kid?"

"Yes, I want to learn all about computers. Then I'll get a good job and be able to help my family."

"That's great. It's nice to have a dream and family to share it with."

The kid walks off. Al pulls a joint out of his pocket and lights it. Then he realized that he forgot to ask the kid his name. He looks amidst the crowd, but the student has already disappeared. Once America and Mexico are seated in the stands, Mexico asks, "Is that one of your legal joints?"

"What, no, those things are expensive and you can only get them in a few states. It's cheaper to buy the black market stuff."

Al starts up a conversation with the family next to him. They're peanut farmers and they're all there together, the children, their parents, the grandparents, aunts and uncles. Al takes another drag from his joint as the game progresses. It's not a particularly exciting game. Al turns to make a remark to the one of the family members seated next to him, but the family is gone. He guessed that they must have gotten bored and left. The game dragged on and honestly, America was too stoned to notice. When he came to himself, America looked around and saw that the stadium was empty.

"Where is everybody."

Mexico answers, "They're all gone."

"Oh, they left?"

"No, they're just gone."

Alfred thinks to himself that there are times when Mexico doesn't make any sense. "Well, we best head back as well. Can you hook me up with some more marijuana?"

Juan doesn't even blink as he says, "Sure. Do you want some more coke as well?"

Alfred grins as he says, "You know me so well."

On the journey back to Juan's house Alfred spots a group of people heading out. "What are those people doing?" America asks, with bright innocent looking eyes.

"They're going digging."

"What, for buried treasure?"

"Yes, they're digging for something that they treasure."

"That's so cool."

Juan remained quiet for the rest of the journey.


End file.
